


Guilty Pleasures

by aterribleinfluence



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 07:02:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19168195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aterribleinfluence/pseuds/aterribleinfluence
Summary: If only she’d stop wearing those ridiculously exposing shirts – surely this must be distracting to other people too? Surely he can’t be the only person whose attention is sometimes unwillingly drawn to the sight of her breathtakingly tempting cleavage, her undeniably gorgeous breasts...From The 100 Kink Meme. Prompt: '"Kabby tittyfucking. because we all know Kane adores Abby's tits'





	Guilty Pleasures

 

The first time Marcus thinks about it is at a Council meeting, of all places.

Abby is wearing a new shirt; presumably her daughter Clarke is now old enough that she has inherited the one her mother used to wear, and Abby has requisitioned another from the limited supply of clothing they have. It’s a dark, faded blue, a little ragged around the edges as most clothing is on the Ark, with a low, scooped neckline.

Marcus doesn’t really think anything of it other than to note it with a passing interest until halfway through the meeting they’re in the middle of some passionate debate, and she leans forward over the table and the neckline of her shirt dips and suddenly he is confronted with far more of Councillor Abby Griffin than he’s used to seeing.

The smooth, creamy swell of her breasts, the dark valley in between...

Marcus wrenches his eyes away. His uniform pants suddenly feel far too tight and he shifts a little, trying to relieve his discomfort, horribly embarrassed at himself. He’s at the _Council table_ for God’s sake. This is serious meeting and what Councillor Griffin is saying is extremely important, and Councillor Griffin’s breasts are firm and full and perfect and he’s getting an erection.

She’s a married woman, not to mention a highly respected figure on the Ark and a fellow Council member. He shouldn’t be thinking about her like this. He shouldn’t be stealing glances at her and wondering what would happen if she leaned over just a little further...

He decides that he just badly needs to get laid, and puts his distraction down to that. Later that day he goes to find the woman he’s been casually seeing, and manages to solve that problem and release a bit of the tension he’s been carrying around since the meeting.

And while he’s doing so he absolutely does _not_ think about Abby Griffin leaning over the Council table.

At all.

 

* * *

 

 

The first time he _really_ thinks about it is the day Abby is late to an important vote, arriving in a whirl of clattering feet and flying blue coat and excuses about a surgery that overran. As she takes her seat at the table, her skin is flushed, dewy with exertion, and her chest is rising and falling rapidly as she gasps in panting breaths.

Marcus really _does_ try not to look, but Abby’s been getting under his skin even more than usual lately, and for some reason their simmering antagonism always just makes her more attractive to him. She’s a persistent itch that he’s never been able to even _think_ about scratching, for _oh_ so many reasons, and frankly it’s been...a long time, since he’s been with anyone at all. He’s been busy.

He wishes he’d made time to blow off some steam with Callie when he finds his gaze slipping back to Abby’s heaving chest, feeling his body warm with sudden pleasurable distraction. If only she’d stop wearing those ridiculously exposing shirts – surely this must be distracting to other people too? Surely he can’t be the only person whose attention is sometimes unwillingly drawn to the sight of her breathtakingly tempting cleavage, her undeniably gorgeous breasts...

His cock stirs to attention, his reaction hidden safely beneath the Council table as his mind wanders. Marcus forgets, for a moment, about his private resolution to stop thinking about Abby Griffin in any way other than strictly professional, because god they look like they’d be so _soft_ , a perfect handful. Actually, forget just feeling them in his hands, he wants to...to...

The image explodes into his mind, shocking in its crudity, embarrassingly vivid.

He doesn’t dare even meet Abby’s eyes for the rest of the meeting.

Marcus is good for nothing all day, tense and frustrated until he can finally get home and bring himself some relief. A personal shower in his quarters is one of the few perks of being on the Council, and given what he’s about to use it for Marcus is profoundly grateful he doesn’t have to worry about interruptions.

He turns on the water and lets his eyes close, letting the image re-enter his mind.

Abby’s firm, ripe breasts, his cock sliding between them...

Marcus groans softly, the sound echoing a little in the small room. He’s so hard that even the gentle pressure of the water from the shower against the purpling head of his cock is becoming agonising, and it’s with infinite relief that he takes himself in hand, stroking himself with careful slowness.

He wishes he could pretend to himself that it’s just a generic fantasy, that it could be any woman, but it’s Abby’s face he sees, Abby’s big, dark, luminous eyes watching him, full of her usual fire, as he imagines the feel of her breasts enveloping his cock. Thrusting again and again between the firm, yielding flesh, feeling her squeeze and bounce around him.

_Oh yeah. Oh fuck yeah that’s good._

His strokes get fast and messy, he’s gasping, grunting with pleasure. He imagines Abby’s soft little moans, her low, husky voice urging him on, spilling out filthy encouragement as he fucks her perfect tits vigorously until he finally explodes over the creamy flesh, his hot, thick come spilling down the generous slopes...

In reality Marcus comes hard, shuddering and groaning, spending in long, hot pulses that stripe the wall of the shower in front of him before being washed away by the water. He stands there for a while, spent and panting, his head bowed, feeling the water drum against his heaving shoulders.

It’s the first time he imagines it, but by no means the last.

 

* * *

 

 

The days after the fall of the City of Light are the best in Marcus Kane’s life.

The world is ending, which would usually be enough to sour anyone’s good mood, and admittedly he’s not able to _forget_ that fact, but sometimes when he’s alone with Abby it doesn’t seem like such an important thing after all. When he’s alone with Abby, who loves him as he loves her, nothing else but the two of them seems to matter at all.

He loves her. He’s loved her for so long, and _wanted_ her for so long, that a little thing like the end of the world isn’t enough to stop him from taking every moment he can to show her the depth of his feeling. The sheer joy he feels in being with her, completely, is better than any fantasy he’s ever had. He _adores_ her, every part.

But...some parts admittedly even more than others. Falling in love hasn’t made him a _saint_.

Marcus loses what little self control he has when he finally sees her naked, sees those full, gorgeous breasts with his own eyes instead of only in his imagination. To Abby’s obvious delight, he can’t keep his hands off them; plumping and kneading them with delirious enjoyment as they make frantic, passionate love, groaning appreciation into her open mouth. Sucking at those dusky, rose coloured nipples as he nuzzles and teases her into a quivering pleading mess, planting open mouthed kisses in the valley between those sweet, lovely curves, his beard leaving a faint pink burn on her delicate skin. Holding them in his hands, feeling the soft, delicious weight filling his palms and jolting with every thrust as he fucks her from behind, her hands braced against a table, whimpering and gasping with pleasure.

He’s deliriously, indescribably happy, glowing with love, brimming over with the kind of sexual energy he hasn’t felt since he was a much younger man. Any moment he’s not in bed with Abby (or on the couch, or in the bathtub, or on the floor in front of the fireplace, or up against the wall...) feels like a moment wasted. She seems as eager to explore his body as he does hers, and the first time he feels her soft, wet lips close around his cock Marcus thinks that even getting crucified was worth it.

But still...he’s hesitant to reveal one particular desire to her. Though he’s imagined it a thousand times, it feels crude, adolescent, like it _belongs_ in the realm of guilty, pornographic fantasy, not something he can ask of the woman he’s fallen head-over-heels in love with. It’s more than enough just to be with her.

But Abby, being Abby, finds out anyway.

Marcus is lying in bed at the end of the day, naked, half hard already as she conducts a slow, thorough exploration of his body with her delicate hands and her soft, moist lips and her tongue. Lazily aroused at the sight of Abby sprawled over his lower body, her long hair tickling his bare skin slightly as she tastes every inch of him, he doesn’t think much of anything beyond the immediate pleasurable sensations...until she shifts position a little and the heavy curves of her breasts brush against the head of his cock and he groans involuntarily. Abby looks up at him, surprised at such an immediate response.

“You like that?” she asks softly, and it’s not a tease, but a genuine question.

“Yes,” he breathes, not thinking to try and conceal the truth.

She takes him in hand, her breasts tantalisingly close to where he wants them, and rubs his dick gently against the stiff, rosy peak of her nipple. The soft friction is enough to make him moan, and god just _seeing_ it—

Abby smiles, pleased at his reaction. Then she leans forward a little, her hair falling round her face, and lets him slide lightly between her breasts, with the faintest of pressure.

“ _Fuck...”_ Marcus groans. His hands grasp wildly at the bedsheets as pleasure rockets through his body. _Yesyesyes. Oh please..._

Abby’s face when she looks back up at him is one of smug delight, the way she always used to look when she managed to score a point off him in a Council debate. It used to drive him crazy, that look, and it still _does_ , albeit in a very different way.

“You’ve thought about me getting you off like this?” she says, seeing right through him with her usual ease.

 “Ah...” He must be blushing, and his lack of a real answer is damning enough. Abby’s eyes dance with pleasure and mischief.

“I should have known,” she says. She leans forward again, and then hesitates.

“Mmm, this won’t work though...”

Marcus feels a surge of disappointment as Abby sits up, but then she gathers back her hair, reaching to the side for a tie so that she can pull it into a loose ponytail.

“I want to be able to _see_ you,” she says, smiling.

She cups her breasts in both hands and squeezes them together, gauging his reaction. Marcus watches the soft flesh press together and hopes fervently that he doesn’t pass out before she even touches him. God, he’s panting like a dog, gazing at her with naked lust that must be written all over his face.

His cock is stiff and twitching with excitement as Abby settles herself between his legs, nudging them wider apart so she can kneel comfortably, and then dips her head to lick the rigid length of him, humming with contentment at his immediate, crudely vocal reaction. She takes a few long, intensely pleasurable minutes to tease and taste him with her tongue, taking him in her mouth until his swollen cock is shining and slick with wetness, and then she leans over him to squeeze her breasts softly around his throbbing erection.

_Oh god._

She’s hesitant, a little awkward at first, finding the right angle. His cock slips from between her breasts and she giggles, somewhat self consciously, stroking him a few times with her hands before pressing her soft flesh around him once again.

Maybe she hasn’t ever done this before, Marcus thinks.

The possibility sends all the breath from his lungs, overwhelming even pleasure for a moment. If she hasn’t...he shouldn’t have asked her...but then didn’t she offer? And it wasn’t as though this were really that outlandish or extreme...but then wasn’t that for _her_ to decide? God, did she really never do this with Jake, how could they _not_ have, what kind of saint _was_ that man?

He’s a little ashamed, how badly he wants Abby never to have done this with Jake.

And then any doubts fly out of his head because Abby finds a rhythm, sliding her breasts up and down his cock with increasing confidence, squeezing him, driving him to the point of blissful oblivion. Marcus has always had trouble switching his mind off, even during sex, but Abby has a way of turning his every thought into a delicious blank, until he can just _feel_ , until he becomes nothing more than a body, pleasure incarnate. He doesn’t worry about what she must think, about how he must look, he only gasps and groans and concentrates on not exploding because holy shit holy shit _holy shit—_

“Does that feel good?” Abby murmurs.

“ _Yes_ ,” he rasps, wishing he could give her more but beyond coherent speech, because oh _fuck_ it feels good, it feels so _so_ good; the soft, enveloping pressure of her, the velvety softness of her skin, the rhythmic friction of each stroke...but most of all just the _sight_ of it, god, of Abby’s plump, perfect breasts working his cock, the look of intent concentration on her face as she makes his most guilty fantasy come true. She’s _smiling._ In all his fantasies he’s never for a moment thought that would be the biggest turn on of all, but _fuck_ she’s so beautiful, so perfect, so _Abby_ and he can hardly stand it.

_I love you so fucking much_ , he wants to say, but it feels wrong, somehow, to say something like that at a moment like this, in some kind of pre-orgasmic haze when surely any man alive in this position would proclaim his undying love.

Abby pauses for a moment, smirking mischievously at his whimper of frustration. “I like it too,” she says, and then dips her mouth to kiss the flared, sensitive head of his cock poking up between her breasts, purring with pleasure as it visibly twitches. Marcus can see it, _feel_ it, as a pulse of hot, liquid pleasure throbs through his body.

 “ _Please_ ,” he moans, close to desperate. He’s straining with the effort of keeping his hips still, wanting to thrust upwards, to chase that delicious friction, even as Abby drives him mad by flicking the tip of her tongue against the place that makes his eyes almost roll back in his head.

She rewards his begging with a final firm suck to the tip of his cock, and then starts to move again, rubbing her breasts up and down his pulsing shaft, picking up the pace as Marcus writhes and moans. It’s so torturously good, enough stimulation to keep him desperately close to the edge but not bring him release, endless waves of pleasure rolling through his body as his eyes gaze greedily at the wildly erotic sight of  her luscious, bouncing breasts.

_“Ohh...”_ he groans. “Oh fuck...oh God...”

He’s shuddering and drawing in harsh, ragged breaths, every muscle and tendon in his body strained and desperate. His hands are clutching fistfuls of the bedsheets, sweat beading on his brow, on the twitching, rock-hard muscles of his abdomen.

“Abby...” he gasps. “I... _fuck_...I’m close...”

She moans softly, and he knows it’s because the sounds of his pleasure turn her on like nothing else in the world; he knows this because she’s _told_ him, because she’s whispered it like a confession against his skin a dozen times when he’s buried deep inside her; _it makes me so hot when moan like that, when you say my name, Marcus, your voice when you lose control, when you come, it makes me so wet..._

So he doesn’t hold back, doesn’t stifle the rough, animal cries of pleasure that tear from his throat as she pumps his cock faster and faster, doesn’t bite back the tide of incoherent words that tumble hoarsely from his lips, encouraging and cursing and begging by turns; _don’t stop, Abby please don’t stop baby I’m so close, you feel so good, fuck that’s so good, don’t stop—_

And then – _bliss_. Ecstasy. Paradise beyond description. His body releases in a violent spasm that makes his back arch and his legs shake. His hips jerk frantically, again and again, his breath expels in a hoarse, rapturous cry as a devastatingly powerful orgasm tears through him.

“Oh— _ohhhhhhh_...”

He slumps panting against the bed, his head raised enough by the pillows that he can see his spent, twitching cock still wedged snugly between Abby’s breasts. He can see his come sliding down the soft curves, glistening on her skin. She keeps him there for a long minute, the light pressure against his now desperately sensitive flesh a deliciously new feeling, and then releases him gently, scrambling up from the bed to clean herself up a little.

When she returns a few moments later, she’s pulled the tie from her hair, and she drapes herself languidly over him, pillowing her head on his shoulder. “That was fun,” she says.

Marcus can just about manage a feeble moan of agreement.

“Although it would be nice if we could find some oil next time,” Abby continues thoughtfully. “That might be more pleasurable. And I think I could get a better angle if you were sitting on the edge of the bed and I was kneeling in front of you.”

Marcus thinks of Abby’s perfect breasts, glistening with warm oil, his cock sliding smoothly between them. “You’re going to kill me,” he says faintly.

She laughs, which has recently become his favourite sound in the world. “But what a way to go,” she says. She presses a kiss against his chest, the nearest part of him she can reach. “I’m glad you liked it.”

He feels, unexpectedly, one of her small hands slip into his, her fingers lacing with his own. She gives his hand a gentle squeeze, at once affectionate and reassuring.

“Much though I like finding out about these things by accident, Marcus,” she says. “You can always just _ask_.”

 

* * *

 


End file.
